Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire (Season 4, Episode 4)
by bionic4ever
Summary: Jaime is ready to return to work and begins retraining with Steve...but no amount of retraining could prepare her when the terrorists' next move is horrifyingly personal. (Special thanks to The Bionic Project for their input and support!)
1. Prologue

**Out of the Frying Pan...Into the Fire**- Season 4, Episode 4

Prologue

''So...how is she?'' Oscar asked, joining the three men who were already watching Jaime run laps.

''Stubborn!''

''Persistent!''

''Exasperating!''

_Back to her normal self already_, Oscar thought to himself. He chuckled, ''Care to explain, gentlemen?''

Michael clicked the button on his stopwatch, made a note on the clipboard and motioned for Jaime to make another round of the track - then grimaced when she stuck out her tongue. He turned to Oscar. ''_That _is what I meant by 'stubborn'!''

''She calls me every day,'' Rudy put in, as explanation for 'persistent', ''wanting to know when I'll sign off that she's ready to go back to work. Or...to start training, since she's back at Square One.''

Michael nodded. ''And that's after I've already told her no, usually five minutes before she calls Rudy.''

''Chomping at the bit,'' Oscar noted. ''That's a good sign; an excellent sign. Steve - _infuriating_? Should I ask?''

''All of the above,'' Steve answered (still watching Jaime intently). ''Not to mention that she wants me to start training her 'informally', until the three of you give the official word.''

''Is that so?'' Oscar mused. ''Maybe it's time, then. Rudy...Michael...is she ready?''

Rudy nodded. ''Physically, she's doing very well. Not quite one hundred percent yet, but she's in great shape. Very strong recovery.''

''No lingering effects from the blood clot in her brain; we were fortunate it dissolved without surgery,'' Michael concluded. ''Mentally, she's sharp as a tack. And stubborn!''

''Persistent!''

''Exasperating...and _amazing_.''

Oscar smiled. ''Gentlemen, it sounds like the time has come to let our young lady get back to work!''


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

''I am _not _exasperating!'' Jaime insisted, as Steve joined her for a 'cool down' (walking) lap of the track.

''Listening in on other people's conversations - when you're not working - is quite exasperating,'' he told her, laughing.

''Even when they're about me?''

''Especially then!''

Jaime grinned. ''Speaking of working...when do we start?''

''How 'bout now?'' It had been agreed that while Russ (and even Oscar) would help Jaime along once she was back in the field, her first initial instruction 'sessions' would be with Steve. With three years' of training and experience essentially 'lost' to her now, Jaime was beginning again as a brand-new recruit...albeit one with extraordinary abilities and an automatic Security Clearance of Six. The three men who'd been observing Jaime's run had headed inside to Rudy's office for a more private conference (out of Jaime's hearing range).

''Lead on, Chief!'' Jaime said happily.

''No Chiefs here; _partners_...remember?''

''Always.'' Together, they made their way to the lake behind National Medical and sat down in the cool, soft grass to talk. ''And...first you have to tell me about all the ways I messed up last time, huh?'' Jaime guessed.

''Never stop to dwell on your mistakes while you're in the field,'' he reminded her (echoing his words from the night all hell had broken loose). ''That -''

''That creates doubt,'' Jaime completed for him, ''and doubt can be fatal. I have a good teacher.''

Steve resisted the urge to lean over and kiss her. In spite of the casual setting, they were working now. ''That's right. And then once things have cooled down, we can think over any mistakes and learn from them. We just can't let them cripple us.'' He hated having to address her errors that from night at all...but they were missteps that couldn't afford to be repeated. ''You were incredibly brave to head into a pitch-dark building all alone, especially when no one had any idea of the scope of what we were facing. And you did absolutely the best you could under the circumstances, when you couldn't even see your own hand in front of your face.''

''I hear a 'but' coming,'' Jaime noted.

Steve nodded. ''When you use the datacom in a 'danger' situation, the first words you transmit need to be your location. Without fail. That way if you're cut off or unable to finish, other teams know where to find you.''

''I noticed that when you were using it. And every time we moved, you gave the location again.''

''That's right.'' Steve was impressed. Not only was she (still) a quick study, but even in a life-or-death crisis she'd been soaking up details like a sponge. The other 'issue' he needed to discuss with Jaime wasn't quite as easy. It wasn't even something he could teach her. She either had _**it**_...or she didn't...and at this point, Steve just wasn't sure.

''I know what you're gonna say next,'' Jaime offered.

''Oh?''

''I was wimpy in there.''

Steve frowned. ''Excuse me?''

''I got scared - and I froze. And...it was more than once.''

Steve heard the quiver in Jaime's voice and saw the way she was staring sadly out over the water. _Formal training be damned_, he told himself. _I can teach __**and**__ comfort her at the same time. She needs both...she gets both_. He reached over to take her hand. Still, she couldn't or wouldn't look at him so he gently cupped her chin with his other hand and forced her to meet his gaze. If there was one thing he could ever teach her that she needed to absorb - to take to heart and never forget in her life as an operative - it was this.

''We all feel fear out there, Jaime,'' he said with a quiet intensity. ''Every single one of us. It's what we do with that fear that determines whether or not we're successful...and whether we live or die. You can let that fear sock you in the gut, steal your breath away...and paralyze you. Or you can turn it into the adrenaline needed to take action...and _survive_.''

* * *

Back in Rudy's office at National Medical, the phone call he'd just received from Jack Hansen had sent adrenaline coursing through Oscar's body - and like it or not, he'd have to act on it. He glanced out the window in the direction Jaime and Steve had been headed. ''Call them in,'' he said, grimacing.

Rudy put two and two together and shook his head sadly, not liking the results of the equation. ''Out of the frying pan...and into the fire,'' he murmured.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

''So much for slow, careful training,'' Michael muttered (more to himself than to Oscar).

''I'm sorry; _what_did you say?'' Oscar snapped. He didn't like the situation either - but didn't take well to having his judgment questioned.

''Just looking out for my patient. I signed off to let her begin training - _not _to send her back into the field!''

''Oscar,'' Rudy added quietly, ''I have to agree with Michael; she's just not ready.''

''That's why I'm not sending her into the field; I'm sending her _out of it_,'' Oscar told them. ''When Steve and Jaime get back, I'll tell you the whole story.''

The three men waited, one staring out the window, one glowering and one sinking into a chair and trying to relax (for the good of his heart). _Maybe this won't be as bad as it sounded from this end_, Rudy told himself.

Steve knew that Security wouldn't have been sent to summon them just so Oscar could wish them a productive and happy day...so while Jaime was filled with curiosity, Steve's arm was protectively around her waist - guarding her from whatever they might be about to hear and almost daring Oscar to try and separate them.

''We have a problem,'' Oscar began.

Steve pulled Jaime a little closer. ''I gathered that much,'' he shot back.

''Is it my test results?'' Jaime asked, seeing the doctors' grim faces. ''I...don't have to be back in the hospital...do I?''

''No. I just got a phone call from Jack Hansen. His Intel sources have indicated that a splinter group from the terror cell that took over the hospital last month has reactivated...and they're looking for Jaime.''

''For me? Why?''

''They must have had men patrolling the perimeter, who got away before Hansen's men went in,'' Oscar theorized. ''They saw you throw that bomb.''

''But...it was pitch black out there!'' Jaime protested.

''Night goggles,'' Oscar guessed, ''or - more likely - the night scope of a rifle.''

''And now we're going after them?'' Jaime asked.

''_**I'm **_going after them!'' Steve insisted.

Oscar shook his head. ''I'm sending you underground -''

Jaime was confused. ''To the basement?''

''No, Sweetheart,'' Steve explained. ''He means to an OSI Safe House, where hopefully you'll be out of their reach until I can find them and bring them in.''

''You're half right, Pal; you're going with her. You'll be a bionic bodyguard - and that way you can continue her training, just in case...''

Jaime frowned. ''Wait a minute; you want me to _hide_? Wouldn't it be a lot easier finding these people if you can catch them coming after me?''

Steve didn't like the sound of _that_! ''Forget it, Jaime.''

''Absolutely not!'' Michael added.

Jaime turned to Oscar, ignoring the naysayers. ''The way I see it, we have two choices. I can run away and hide - and be _hunted_- or I can lure them right to Hansen's men. And our men, of course. I'd so much rather be a hunter than one of the hunted!''

''Sweetheart...'our' men? You haven't been reinstated yet,'' Steve pointed out. ''Besides, do you have any idea what those men might do to you, if they find you?'' Steve felt her shiver in his arms and instantly regretted his harsh tone...but not his words. Jaime didn't seem to understand she was placing herself squarely in the line of fire.

''Well, I'm not gonna think about that,'' Jaime retorted. ''I can't! I don't want to run away with my tail between my legs while other people bail me outta trouble! _You _wouldn't,'' she concluded, looking stubbornly at Steve. ''Would you?''

''That's different.''

''Cut the macho crap, Steve! What good is it for me to have these millions of dollars worth of circuits if I can't even use them to help when I'm really needed?''

Oscar cleared his throat with an emphasis that let them _both_ know that the decision was his...and his alone.

* * *

As the car (with Russ at the wheel) sped out of DC, in the backseat Jaime moved closer to Steve, refusing to give in to her own fear. Steve was in full 'instructor' mode, trying to cram everything he could think of into a drive that would take just over an hour.

''Remember that - as fast as we are - we still can't outrun a bullet,'' he told her. ''So try to never be in a position where you can be cornered; stay between them and a door whenever possible.''

''Well, that's just common sense.''

''Work _with _me here, would ya?'' Steve said, with a lightness he didn't feel. He eyed Jaime closely. She was finally back in his arms, after three years spent apart when he longed for her every single day. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her now! ''You can still change your mind, you know. Just lie down across the seat, I'll cover you with a blanket and -''

''Too late for that,'' Russ announced. ''We've got a tail.''


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

''Don't look back, Jaime,'' Steve told her. ''That'll tip them off that we see them. Russ can keep an eye on the rear view. As long as they keep their distance - for now - we should be okay.''

''We might have a problem...'' Russ said quietly, eying the car behind them.

_It was too soon._ According to the plan they'd so carefully worked out, they were headed to a phony OSI Safe House (rather than expose a real one's location), where hidden teams waited to help take down the terrorists. It was assumed they'd be followed (and 'jumped' when they got there)...but their pursuers were playing their hand too early, following too closely.

''It's not one of ours,'' Russ added. There were support units ahead and behind them but none in sight (since that would give away the ruse). They were on an expanse of highway that snaked through a dense patch of forest, so there were no side roads he could turn down, to see if the other car followed (and to try and shake them off if they did). He pressed his foot harder on the accelerator...and the other car kept up right behind them. ''Units One and Two, fall back,'' Russ called on the radio. ''We've got company and need back-up _now_.'' There was no reply; not even an acknowledgment. ''Units One and Two - do you read me?'' _Nothing._ It was **not** time to give up! ''This is vehicle 'Three Dwarves'! Snow White, are you there? _Any units copy this?_''

''The radio's dead?'' Jaime gulped.

''The radio's fine,'' Steve told her. ''Our friends back there have a frequency jammer.'' He keyed up his datacom. ''Oscar, do you read?'' Once again, there was no answer. ''Great; a very sophisticated jammer. We're cut off.''

Russ pressed the accelerator as hard as he dared on the narrow, winding road...

* * *

''Oscar, we've lost communication with the 'Three Dwarves'!'' Jack called from the other side of the Control Room.

''That's impossible - keep trying!'' Oscar insisted. ''Move vehicles One and Two back and send Three and Four forward to intercept in case they're in trouble!''

Hansen was already on it. All four cars acknowledged...then one by one they lost communication too as they got closer to their destination. Hansen furiously pounded the buttons, trying to raise someone - anyone - in the 'Three Dwarves' area on the radio...and got only dead air. ''It's a jammer!'' he announced. ''Either they're being followed or the car has..._stopped_...and the jammer was left behind to throw us off.''

The entire Control Room moved immediately into crisis mode. With no way to reach Steve, Jaime and Russ (or the four Security cars), they had to hope for the best...while assuming (and preparing for) the worst. The Secret Service was notified and State and local police (and Rescue) were dispatched.

Unit Two was the first to call in - or rather, the first to be able to transmit, as the Control Room radio blared back to life catching the NSB Security team member in mid-sentence. ''...and no skid marks evident at the scene, Sir,'' he reported.

''All units report, please,'' Hansen requested. ''Where are you and what's going on? Transmissions have been blocked since acknowledgment; I need full reports!'' Whatever had been jamming their frequencies had been disabled - either voluntarily or by force.

''This is Unit One,'' the first car transmitted. ''We were in pursuit of a vehicle leaving the scene.''

''Unit One, is the vehicle apprehended?''

''Negative, Sir. Our tires were shot out. Radioed for back-up...but nothing happened. Unable to ascertain number of occupants in vehicle or get a plate number.''

Oscar grimaced. Hansen continued checking in with the Security cars. ''Unit Two...what do you have?''

''Unit Two...'Three Dwarves' car off the road and up against a tree, impacting on the passenger side. Rear bumper also shows signs of an impact. Small amounts of blood, front and back seat.''

''I've sent an ambulance,'' Hansen told them. ''How bad are the injuries?''

''Car is empty, Sir. We've remained with the vehicle and Three and Four are searching the area. Awfully dense back here; we could use more help!''

''Units are on the way,'' Hansen promised.

The news grew more ominous with each transmission. Although there had (so far) been no bodies found, there was also no sign of Jaime, Steve or Russ. Then...a lone voice came over the datacom frequency, sounding frightened and very far away.

''Oscar...?''

Hansen grabbed the other mic. ''Jaime? This is Jack Hansen. Are you hurt? What about the others?''

''I - I'm by myself. Can't find anyone. I...'' Her voice trailed off for a moment. ''I know I'm s'posed to start by giving you my location, but...I don't know where I am...''

- - - - -


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Rudy rose from the corner table where he'd been observing quietly. ''Let me talk to her...just for a minute?'' he requested. He knew that Jack and Oscar needed to gather as much information from Jaime as possible - and _quickly_ - but as her doctor he had questions too. Oscar realized that although Jaime had met Jack the night of the hospital siege (so she knew who he was, and a little bit about the NSB in general), he was still a complete stranger to her. Quietly, Oscar suggested that Jack rally the Search & Rescue and Security teams from the main radio while he and Rudy tended to Jaime. Then, knowing that Rudy had become something of a surrogate father to Jaime while he (Oscar) was an authority figure she still didn't know very well, Oscar nodded Rudy toward the microphone.

''Jaime?'' the doctor began, ''it's Rudy. Are you hurt?''

''No. I - I don't think so.'' Her voice sounded thin...and very small.

''Honey...did you hit your head?''

''I'm not sure...''

Rudy didn't like the sound of _that_! She'd told Hansen she didn't know where she was. Was that because she was in an unfamiliar area - or was her disorientation caused by something more ominous? ''Jaime, what were you doing right before you got there?'' he probed gently.

''We were...in the car. Russ ran it against the tree. They told me to...to run...and I heard them running too. But...they ran the other way! It sounded like...like Steve was...slowing down to stay with Russ. And then they stopped.''

''What happened next, Honey? Did you hear anything unusual? A fight...thuds..._gunshots_?''

''No; no gunshots. They were...talking. I didn't really listen - I should've listened! But I'd have had to stop...to really tune in...and Steve told me to keep running. So I did...I kept running...and now I don't know where I am!''

Rudy frowned. Something in her voice just wasn't 'right'. While the mic was keyed 'Off', he turned to Oscar. ''No new head injury; her memory of what happened before and after is too vivid for that. But - I'm guessing here - she may be in shock. And possibly injured.''

Oscar nodded and relayed the info to Hansen - along with what Jaime had said about Russ and Steve. It sounded like they had been leading the terrorists _away from Jaime._ Meanwhile, Rudy kept talking to her on the datacom, trying to keep her calm and hoping to figure out where she was.

''Jaime...is anyone following you - or chasing you - right now?''

''I don't think so.''

''Alright; that's good. I want you to sit down - right where you are and stay there so Rescue can find you,'' Rudy instructed.

''But...I need to find Steve...and Russ...''

''Young Lady, _Sit. Down_!'' he repeated in a stern voice (that he hoped would get through to her). ''Now...tell me what you see. Are you in the woods?''

''Lots of trees. I - I can't find the car. So many trees...''

''Jaime,'' Rudy continued, ''I want you to listen closely to everything around you. There should be searchers nearby.'' (At least, Rudy hoped she was still near the search perimeters. Just how far had she run...?) ''What do you hear?''

''Birds...and...water. I hear water!''

That narrowed things down considerably. Rudy stayed on the datacom while Oscar - once again - relayed the info to Hansen so he could inform the searchers and send them in Jaime's direction.

''Great job, Honey,'' Rudy told her. ''Now just stay put and let the officers find you.''

''Can't...'' Jaime said vaguely. ''Have to go now, Rudy...''

''Jaime!'' Rudy called for her several times over the device - and there was no answer.

Units Three and Four started combing the area of the woods that was closest to the nearby river (assisted by other units as they began to arrive). It didn't take long before Jack had a (partial) answer. Led there by the sound of Rudy's voice still trying to reach Jaime, Unit Four located a datacom, lying on the forest floor - either lost, abandoned...or taken away from Jaime by force. There was a slight indent among the sticks and leaves where she had apparently been sitting...along with a small amount of blood and a scattering of the surrounding foliage. A struggle had taken place; either Jaime had needed to fight to get back on her feet (due to weakness or injury) or she had been surprised - and ambushed.

_Jaime was not there._

- - - - -


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Steve sat quietly, waiting for what might be coming next...and wishing he had an ear like Jaime's. He was hooded - had been since they'd put him in the car (with Russ) but his senses told him he was now in an attic. They'd gone up several flights of stairs (with a gun pressed firmly to his back) and ended up here. Even through the thick hood, the smells of dust and mildew told Steve he was in an attic...and the stairs they'd taken to get there told him he was too high up to jump out a window...even if he could see to find one.

Their captors didn't seem to know he was bionic, as Steve was tied to a chair with 'normal' rope (albeit very tightly...and his left arm was already going numb). The gunman who'd forced him up the stairs was still watching him - or at least in the room. Steve had heard chair legs scrape the wooden floor when the man sat down. He could break his bonds, throw off the hood and (by virtue of his bionics) try to take the man by surprise...but it was more likely he'd be shot and even if he managed to pull off his own escape, Steve didn't know where Russ was or how badly he might be hurt and there was no way he was leaving him behind!

Steve shifted in his chair, still weighing his options...and heard the _click_ of the guard cocking his gun. ''Don't even _think _about moving,'' the man sneered. Steve slumped down a bit, feigning (temporary) defeat. He was still taking stock of his own body (and the situation as a whole).

Steve's head was pounding, both from being knocked out and from the 'bounce back' effect that had caused him to slam into the passenger door (after colliding with Jaime in the back seat) when Russ had skidding into the tree. After they'd been rear-ended in an attempt to force them them off the road, Russ had attempted a U-turn to head back in the opposite direction and throw off their pursuers...but the narrowness of the road and the proximity of the other car had sent them into a skid. Rather than collide with the terrorists, he had braked as smoothly as possible and slid off the road and into the tree. The actual impact had been somewhat gentle but - even wearing seat belts - they'd been jostled back and forth violently as the car left the road. Russ had a good-sized goose egg on his forehead and his nose had been bloodied when they'd first hit the ditch and he'd pitched forward into the steering wheel.

Steve had helped Jaime from the car and then he and Russ (without needing to consult or even think about it) headed in the direction of where they could hear the terrorists entering the woods. He hadn't fought being taken - and neither had Russ - since the sooner their captors took them out of the forest, the further they'd be from the terrorists' actual target: _Jaime_. They'd asked about her just after he and Russ had been put into the car but they weren't given time to answer before being hooded...and knocked out. Hopefully, Jaime had done exactly as he'd told her - run in the opposite direction and kept on running. Was she safe? She hadn't looked altogether steady on her feet and was very, very pale - but she'd broken into a good solid run. Steve could only hope that she'd managed to get away and was now safely wrapped in a blanket in the back of a Rescue vehicle.

As if reading Steve's mind, the gunman was suddenly standing over him, looming very close. ''Where is the girl?'' he demanded. ''How is she able to do the things she does?''

Steve remained silent. From interrogating the group who'd been rounded up after the hospital siege, he knew the terrorists had been after Rudy's research on the miniaturization of nuclear power packs. They didn't appear to know about the existence of actual bionic implants in human subjects...and if Steve could play his cards right, maybe they wouldn't find out. (He just wished he knew what 'cards' he was going to play...)

_**Crack!**_ What felt like the butt of the gun slammed into Steve's face. ''I asked you a question!'' his tormentor thundered. ''_Where is the girl_?''

* * *

Jaime still had no idea where she was. She heard footsteps coming through the trees but in her confusion she didn't know if they belonged to Rescue...or to potential captors. They were coming from opposite directions, heading straight for her. _She was trapped!_Jaime gathered her strength, wobbling just a little as she crouched down...and then leaped high into a tree, nearly missing the aimed-for branch and swinging her body over safely just as the footsteps reached her...and then retreated.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

''This section clear, Mr. Goldman,'' Jaime heard one of the men on the ground saying. _It was the Rescue Team_! Jaime knew she should call out to them...jump down to meet them..but instead she stayed on her perch high in the tree - and listened. ''She's nowhere near the river. I'm sorry, Sir; the banks are steep. Possibility exists that she may have fallen in. The current is awfully strong. We'll send team further downstream to have a look but there is absolutely no sign of her."

Jaime heard Oscar's voice over the man's two-way radio. ''What about Colonel Austin and Mark Russell?''

''No signs of anyone, Sir - alive or...otherwise. This section is completely empty.''

''They're out there somewhere; they have to be!'' Oscar insisted. ''We just spoke with Jaime a few minutes ago - and she was _right there_! She may be injured. I'll send as many men as you need; blanket the area and _keep looking _until you find her!''

''Yes, Sir. And you may want to bring in water teams...to drag the river.''

Jaime listened intently as the man with the radio walked back and forth in place a few times (probably in frustration) and then finally headed off to a point further downstream. She could still catch him; he was still in shouting distance! But Jaime kept quiet as she tried to clear her head and figure out what to do. Oscar had trusted her enough to send her out after these men - the men who now probably had Steve and Russ - and she didn't intend to fail him! If she jumped down and allowed herself to be rescued (with Steve and Russ missing and the terrorists still on the loose), she would _**fail**_ in what she'd been sent to do! Jaime needed to prove to Oscar that she was capable of anything that might be thrown at her...but more than that, she needed to prove it to herself! There was no possible way for her to track down where Steve and Russ had been taken, but from what Oscar had said before sending them out, the men were not the target. _She_ was! They were looking for her! With any luck, they'd come back again to finish what they'd started...and take her straight to Steve and Russ!

* * *

His tormentor's raised boot caught Steve's rib cage with a sickening _thud_ and Steve winced underneath the hood...but remained silent. ''Where is she? The girl was in the car when you went off the road! She escaped very quickly. Has quite a remarkable pitching arm too. How is she able to do these things? And _where is she_?!'' Another kick to Steve's ribs landed so violently that it sent the chair skittering onto its side...with Steve still tied to it. ''Next one is to your head,'' the man told him. ''Your friend is already talking to us; you might as well do the same.''

''I doubt it,'' Steve snapped. The terrorist's words meant (or at least implied) that Russ was still alive. Steve knew it was unlikely he'd told them anything; Russ had been through the same Interrogation Resistance training that he had. For that matter, so had Jaime...but she no longer remembered it. If these men got their hands on her...

''**_Where. Is. She_**?'' the gunman roared, keeping his promise and connecting his boot to the side of Steve's head. ''Maybe she was injured, in the crash? Poor little lamb, lost and all alone, wandering hurt through the big bad woods! We can't have that! My friends and I might just have to find her ourselves...''

* * *

''''Just _find her_!'' Oscar told Jack Hansen (who was trying to mobilize every available unit in the tri-state area and DC to assist in the search for the three missing operatives). ''She's injured; possibly in shock.''

''Do you want them to drag the river?'' Hansen asked quietly.

''No! Yes...I suppose they have to. But first I want teams lining that water on both sides, from where Jaime's datacom was found all the way down to the dam. Make absolutely certain she isn't in the water somewhere, struggling. Check the car again too, in case she went back there -''

''Already did,'' Hansen told him.

''Well, tell them to keep checking it! Stand off from it a bit, where she can't see you. It'll be dark out there soon; maybe she'll climb into the car for shelter for the night. Let's give her the opportunity,'' Oscar suggested. ''She's only one month out from a nearly critical brain bleed. For all we know, that may have been re-triggered in the accident! She needs to be found and brought back to National - tonight!''

''We're doing our best, Oscar,'' Hansen reminded him. "Marchetti has readied a medevac with everything Jaime might need, if we find her - ''

''_When _we find her,'' Oscar cut in.

''_When_ she's found, Hansen sighed, ''let's just hope we're the ones who find her...and not the _other _search party!''


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Jaime scarcely dared to breathe. So many searchers! She thanked her lucky stars that none of them thought to look UP! Matter of fact, they seemed quite preoccupied with looking _down_, as they combed the riverbank searching for skids in the mud and grass (that would mean she'd fallen into the water)...and prepared to 'drag' the river. She shivered slightly at the thought that they were looking for her _body_ in that fast, murky water. Jaime also felt a twinge of guilt when she thought about what Rudy and Oscar (and even Michael, although she barely remembered knowing him) must be going through...if they believed she was dead. For a fleeting moment, she wished she still had her datacom so she could at least let them know she was alive but she'd left it behind near the riverbank, realizing the voices it would broadcast would instantly give her location away to the Rescue teams. She was doing what she _knew _was right - and for now she had to focus on that! Her ear was picking up even the slightest sound from everywhere around her; it was getting harder to hone in on anything...but she threw everything she had into the effort and soon was able to pick up what she guessed what the main radio frequency for the Rescue effort.

''Boats are in position, Mr. Hansen; divers ready to go in if we find anything.''

''Copy; thank you. Results from the lab show the blood in the car belongs to all three subjects. I need ground crews to remain on the lookout for _all three_...and any other signs of injury or foul play.''

Jaime's head was spinning, from too much info, fear...and more than a little pain. _Steve and Russ were hurt!_ She **had** to find them - and fast! Where were the terrorists? (Her instinct just _knew_ they would still be looking for her!) Had they been scared off - for now - by the Search teams? Jaime had no choice but to wait it out. But when/if they did show up, how would she get through what seemed like masses of Oscar and Jack Hansen's men to get to her targets?

* * *

Steve laid on his side gasping for air, in a temporary respite from the physical assault as his captor paced the creaky old floorboards of the attic. Instead of blows, he was being tortured now with words...and Steve wasn't sure which hurt him the worst.

''Who is this woman?'' the gunman mused. ''Is she a friend to you? Maybe your girlfriend...your wife? No matter; she'll be _ours_ soon. My friends **will** find her...and we've arranged a very special welcome, just for her! Perhaps you'd enjoy watching what we have planned...and hearing her screams? It can be arranged, you know. So tell me, how does one so young and pretty come across such extraordinary abilities? Maybe she is..._bionic?_'' (Steve cringed inwardly; he _did_ know the word, after all.) ''Has Rudy Wells finally done it? Seems we might be able to get our hands on those nuclear powered generators, after all! I just hope we don't hurt her too badly. Such a pretty little thing...''

* * *

Jaime was having trouble isolating - focusing in on - any single sound, with everything that was going on all around her. It seemed that the boats were moving down the river now, away from her - and as they did so, the ground crews gradually began to thin out. Then it was dusk and the crews that remained began to use lights, both hand-held and on the ground - to illuminate the search areas. _This is __**not**__ good_, Jaime thought to herself. When the time would come to jump, she'd now have to dodge floodlights as well as potential rescuers in order to accomplish her goal. She listened as carefully as her throbbing head would allow...and very soon heard what she'd been waiting for.

A car was coming slowly down the road, in the opposite direction from where most of the search and rescue teams had come. It stopped far short of where a small Command Center had been set up, and it sounded like the car had pulled down onto the soft shoulder, to be at least partially obscured from sight by the ditch and the trees. Footsteps (it sounded like two men or possibly three) meandered through the trees, probably taking care to avoid the lights (and eyes) of the search teams. Then...a voice...one Jaime hadn't heard before.

''The searchers are still here,'' the man noted. ''That means the girl hasn't been found. And she is very valuable to them, to have so many out looking for her. We must find her first - and then you know what to do.''

Jaime waited until they'd wandered a little closer, then gathered her courage and dropped down from her perch, landing softly on the forest floor. Instead of a perfect two-point landing, she wobbled and fell but was immediately back on her feet...and she ducked behind a tree as a Security man's light swept in her direction. When it was clear, Jaime headed in the direction of the men she assumed were the terrorists. And she was right.

Rough hands grabbed her from behind and a hand clamped across her mouth (silencing the scream she had tried - almost successfully - to muffle), as a hood was forced over her head. Something hit her _hard_, just missing the goose egg she'd suffered when her body had collided with Steve's in the backseat. Jaime fought back an overwhelming sense of panic...and forced herself to go limp. Hands that were far from gentle lifted her up and carried her, placing her on a hard, carpeted surface that smelled of gasoline and oil. Jaime heard the slamming of the trunk (overhead) and then the car started and drove slowly out of the ditch.

_She was on her way_...but to _what?!_


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Lying in the trunk of the car, Jaime's arms and legs were not bound (although her head was still hooded) because she had feigned unconsciousness so convincingly. Truth was, she was struggling now to keep her wits about her. The canvas hood was stiflingly hot, almost smothering, and did exactly what it was intended to do: induce panic. Her head throbbed from several sore points on her skull and she fought off the blackness that felt like it loomed just around the corner, knowing instinctively that to pass out would be fatal in one way or another. She remembered what Steve had told her (just that morning) about using fear to make you stronger instead of letting it paralyze you...and Jaime hung onto that.

What were her options? She could kick open the trunk and try to escape (before they were able to stop the car and come after her). Not likely; Jaime knew her balance was off and she stood a good chance of landing _splat_ on the roadway. Besides, she _wanted_ them to take her...wherever it was they were going. She could remove the hood (God, she wanted to remove the hood!) and wait until they opened the trunk - then overpower her captors, storm the hideout and rescue Steve and Russ...but what did she think she was, she chided herself...a one-woman army? They'd originally thought this 'splinter cell' might contain no more than two or three rogue members...but there were at least two or three men in this car right now - and Jaime doubted Russ and Steve had been left alone with no one to guard them! No, this second idea wasn't one of her best, when she had no clue - yet - exactly what she was up against. She would have to wait and see what was coming next...and decide her own next move from there. For now she would work on forcing herself to stay put...and not pass out.

* * *

A door opened and closed downstairs and the gunman laughed with an sneer so evil that Steve could _hear_ it. ''Now the fun _really _starts; we find out just what makes that little lady tick! Now, don't you go anywhere. I'll be right back with some company for you.''

His tormentor headed down the rickety stairs and Steve shifted his weight and attempted to loosen the ropes just a little - not enough to be noticeable if they should check but in an effort to return circulation to his left arm. He succeeded...and immediately wished he hadn't. There was something _wrong_. Pain seared white-hot from his shoulder to his wrist as the blood flow returned to the formerly-numb limb. He hadn't been roughed up that badly (had lived through far worse, in fact) so he guessed it had happened when he'd slammed into Jaime in the back of the car. Did that mean she was hurt too? From the sound of things, he was about to find out.

''Your 'husband' has been waiting for you,'' he heard someone taunting as more men with heavy boots made their way up the stairs. ''Or maybe he's just some bodyguard-flunky the OSI hired to protect you, huh? Doesn't matter now.'' The boot steps came closer - and Steve heard the sound of a body being laid not-so-gently on the floor directly behind him. He knew the scent of her shampoo...and his heart sank. _Jaime._It didn't sound like she was fighting and she hadn't spoken a word.

They were lying back to back on the dusty floor, with Steve still secured to the chair (now laying on its side). He felt their captors tie Jaime's arms to his own, around the wooden back of the chair and then the whole chair jerked as (he assumed) her legs were secured as well. She seemed to be offering no resistance.

''Let's give her some time to come to, while we prepare a proper 'Welcome' for her...and sharpen the tools!'' one of the men laughed. ''We want her fully awake and aware when we start cutting into her!'' With that, the terrorists turned on their heels and headed away, confirming Steve's suspicion they were in an attic when they folded up the stairs and the attic door creaked and then slammed shut.

''Jaime...?'' Steve whispered, audible only to her in case they weren't really alone. Her fingers reached over and met his. _She was alive!_ And _awake_. ''If we're alone - and you don't hear any 'bugs' - squeeze my hand.''

There was silence for a moment while (Steve hoped) she was listening to their surroundings. ''They're gone,'' she answered very softly. ''And Russ is...in a - a room just to the right...at the bottom of the last flight of stairs. I heard struggling as they were...carrying me past.''

''Great work, Sweetheart. Are you alright? Did they hurt you?'' He chose not to tell her about his left arm because he was guessing she was frightened enough already.

''My...head...it hurts. Sorta dizzy. But...I'm okay...'' she offered weakly. (Her voice seemed to be trailing off, the more she spoke.) ''I can run...and I can stand and - and fight. Whatever you need...me to do...''

Steve knew she would need Rudy as soon as they got out...but first they needed to _get out!_They had very little time to come up with a plan - so as quickly and clearly as possible, Steve outlined what they would have to do. They would only have one chance and would need to work together as smoothly as a well-oiled machine. Would Jaime be able to go through with it - to do what needed to be done, with split-second timing - or would she freeze with fear?


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

They could've freed themselves while they were alone and then forced the attic door open...but the noise on the old rickety floor boards would alert their captors below...and a flurry of gunfire would likely await them when the stairs creaked downward. ''We know they're after a power pack,'' Steve reminded Jaime.

''Seems like...half the world is after...these damn power packs...''

He _had_ to keep her focused! ''Yeah, well, they'll have to untie us - or you, anyway - and lay you out flat before they...uh...start cutting.'' (With the hoods - and the chair - there was simply too much to overcome to allow them any element of surprise while they were both still tied; this _had _to be the moment!) ''Try to have a picture in your head of where they are, so when that happens you can kick up, hopefully send one into another, then throw off your hood and keep fighting. I'll have freed my legs and my arms if I can - but I might need your help with that. Then...our best weapons are ourselves. We have to concentrate on getting down those stairs, finding Russ and getting out of here.''

''And...securing the...bad guys,'' Jaime reminded him.

Steve was alarmed by the way she sounded like she was getting weaker, but he had no choice except to continue. They were running out of time! ''Ideally, yes; but it's more important to get all three of us out of here in one piece.''

Jaime's fingers gripped his own a little more tightly. ''Steve...they're coming...''

* * *

Back in the woods near the river, the search for Jaime and the others had kicked into high gear again. Alerted by the sound of Jaime's (muffled) scream, men had been turned away from the water's edge to run - en masse - in her direction...but her captors had been too quick. The searchers heard the sound of a car starting and then driving away but on foot they simply couldn't get there in time.

''We can't assume she's been taken,'' Oscar transmitted as he was being driven (at his own insistence) to the scene. Privately, he suspected that was the case - and he dreaded the thought of what was happening to his friends - but they had to approach this from every angle. ''They may have hurt her - hurt _all_ of them - or worse...and then taken off. Double up - no, triple up - on the search and _keep looking!_''

* * *

Their tormentors pulled down the old trap door and eased the stairs back into place to make their way up to where Jaime and Steve lay waiting. ''Is the little lady back with us yet? Let's find out!'' With no more of a warning than that, one of the gunmen reached down and slapped Jaime's face, causing a small involuntary cry of pain. ''Good. Nice of you to finally 'join' us,'' he sneered.

Their goal may have been a power pack...but _terror _was their joy. A power drill was turned on and held menacingly, its awful promise of destruction just inches from Jaime's face, taunting her. She couldn't see it, of course but she could hear it...sense its closeness...and know exactly what it meant. They had accomplished at least one goal; Jaime was terrorized. Steve could feel her body beginning to tremble - and he silently willed her to stay with him and to focus on what they needed to do, which was probably coming up in mere seconds.

''What do you think it will feel like, when this slices into you?'' the terrorist persisted. ''Does Rudy Wells' robot even _feel_ pain?'' He laughed...then went on. ''Yes, I do know that about you. Or at least, I suspect - and will find out for sure, very soon. Perhaps he hasn't gone that far, after all. Perhaps he's developed some sort of...elixir...that gives you such special abilities. What if we cut and there is blood where we expect to find circuits...hmm? That would prove to be painful for you, wouldn't it? _Very _painful!''

_Anger_...productive anger and not fear, Jaime told herself...but she teetered dangerously on the edge of sheer panic - and had to choke back a whimper of fear. Even without the benefit of resistance training to call upon, she knew it was vital that they not know they were getting to her. (But they were...in _spades_!)

''Many would pay a high price for Doctor Wells' miniature power packs,'' the terrorist continued. The drill was still whirring away, as close to Jaime's face as it could get without boring a hole in the hood. ''His development of such devices has been rather common knowledge for years. There was even speculation he might try to implant them into a human subject. Never any confirmation - at least for us - that his research had progressed that far...until now. If it's true, if you _are_ his creation, I suppose you'd fetch an even better price than we could get for just the power pack. But we need one as a prototype, for our own purposes. Money is _not _our goal. We have plenty of that. We need the technology - and we intend to get it!''

Suddenly, Jaime's body was jolted with horrible pain as the power tool met wires and connections in her leg and sent shock waves through her entire system. They had chosen the leg that was facing upward as she laid on her side...without stopping to untie her first. The spasm caused by the electrical jolt was so violent (and unexpected) that Steve knew exactly what had happened. And _he had been wrong_. Their plan was in ruins before it had even begun...before they'd even had a chance...


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Down at the edge of the woods...their very first 'break'. While Security had been unable to reach Jaime in time before she'd been spirited away - and unable to reach their cars quickly enough to give chase - several had caught sight of the vehicle after it had left the ditch, just as it was rounding the next curve and speeding off. No one had gotten a full plate number (it had happened far too quickly) but there were several partial numbers and they were plugging those in, in various combinations, as fast as the system could process them. With any luck, they might soon have an address.

* * *

After the first jolt, Jaime went completely limp...and Steve's heart was breaking. His mind scrambled for a way to save her and he very nearly had it...but just as quickly, tossed the thought aside. He longed to plead - or bargain - with their captors, to let them know that _**he too**_ had the power pack they sought...and that he'd even pinpoint it's location for them...once they had let Jaime go. He'd have done it - and gladly - but he knew the terrorists' plans for them would _not_change. Regardless of any so-called bargains, once they had the components they sought, these people's intentions were that none of the three of them would be leaving this house alive.

Steve felt Jaime's fingers clasp his own, one more time - and he knew that she was still conscious...and 'with' him as much as she could be. Their hoped-for 'well-oiled-machine' of teamwork would need to perform in perfect synchronicity - like they had never performed before - and they had to do it _now!_ Jaime's body arched again, with seizure-like intensity, as another jolt surged through her system. The sudden violence of the motion pulled her left arm away from his right...tearing the rope. It was a small break for them - _very _small, considering what they were up against. Steve had no choice but to act; their window of opportunity was about to close without ever truly being open. He wasn't sure if Jaime was aware of it...or if she was even able to move anymore.

In one fluid, bionically-fast motion, Steve tore off his hood, freed their arms on the other side then snapped off a piece of the chair that he began swinging at their attackers. It wasn't enough on its own, but would Jaime follow his lead? Was she too thoroughly terrorized (and too badly injured)...or could she still do what needed to be done?

She could...and she did. At the exact moment the drill was lowered to begin boring a third hole, Jaime swung her legs sideways and up - breaking the last rope binding herself to Steve. What one leg now lacked in strength, she made up for with the other...and with sheer determination. Momentum drove the drill bit straight into her leg (where it broke off and stayed) and she cried out but kept on moving, sending the heavy tool itself pounding into the face of her tormentor as her legs continued their kick for freedom. Finally, she tore off her hood. Both Steve and Jaime kicked their legs out to trip the advancing group of men, knocking them into each other even harder with the remaining chunks of the chair. Guns began firing wildly, missing their targets as the men were sent sprawling - all at once - into the far corners of the attic.

Steve rose to his feet, pulling Jaime along with him and leaning into her, supporting her with his back as she struggled to find solid footing of her own. They continued to throw whatever they could grab onto, to disable the last of their attackers, until the attic fell silent. It had taken mere seconds (seconds that felt like eternity) - and what they had accomplished staggered the mind. Then Steve noticed that _Jaime _was staggering...and they weren't home free just yet.

''C'mon, Partner; let's go,'' he signaled.

''We have to...to...'' Jaime was trying to say _secure them _but shock and trauma were taking their toll. Steve took her arm and led her to the hole in the floor - the attic door - and began descending the steps himself so he could help Jaime down. As she took her first tentative step down, out of the attic, Steve winced inwardly at the sight of the drill bit protruding angrily from her leg. She took the first step (on her good leg) steadily but her other leg gave out on its turn...and Jaime toppled several steps straight down, with Steve's right arm breaking her fall. Almost automatically, he used that momentum and continued the downward motion as - with a turn of his waist - he deposited her safely at the bottom of the stairs. Moving at bionic speed once again, he led Jaime out of the way...and winked at her.

''Watch this,'' he said softly. He was nearly a blur as he raced back to the top of the attic steps and gave a good, hard _stomp _to the old, rickety wood. Faster than the wood could crumble, he leaped back down to the floor and swung the breaking stairs - and the attached attic door - upward into the ceiling, trapping their attackers at least temporarily. Steve wrapped his right arm around Jaime's waist, both to steady her and to keep her from seeing his left arm (hanging limply at his side). They made their way down another flight of stairs and found Russ exactly where Jaime had said he was. Their friend was lying on the floor, bloodied and battered...but still alive!

''Think you can walk on your own?'' Steve asked Jaime. ''I have to get him out of here.''

''No...gonna help...you!'' Together, they reached down to gather up their fallen comrade...and Jaime gasped. ''Steve...your arm!''

''I've had worse,'' he said with honest simplicity. ''This is kind of 'deja vu', isn't it - your leg and my arm, like the Walking Wounded,'' he suggested, remembering just a month earlier when they'd helped each other out of a hospital that had been under siege.

''Yeah...but this time...opposite sides...for...both of us.''

Steve had to chuckle; she was right. Working as a single unit, they carried Russ between them, out into the front yard and laid him carefully in the grass - just as an entire fleet of government cars roared up the driveway and a chopper flew in to loom directly overhead.

After everything she had just endured...Jaime began to laugh. ''_Now?_ The Cavalry...shows up..._**now**__? Really...Seriously?_''

Oscar was the first one out of the lead vehicle, his gun drawn and ready until he saw his three friends - with no one following them. ''Bring in that chopper!'' he called, rushing to help Steve catch Jaime...as she collapsed without another word onto the ground.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

''Oh, God...'' Michael murmured as he leaned over the stretcher to tend to his patient - and saw the drill bit embedded in her leg.

Medics had begun tending to all three victims before the chopper had even left the ground. Steve's left arm had been immobilized, he'd been given a pain shot and he leaned now against the wall of the chopper, as close as he could get to Jaime without getting in the way of Michael and the medics. His arm would have to wait for treatment until they reached the Surgical Unit at National, since Michael's practiced eye had instantly spotted the compound fracture. Small, but there - and potentially serious - a piece of bone was protruding just slightly through the skin a few inches above his elbow. (He had probably braced himself - _hard_- to lessen the impact of sliding into Jaime, to avoid hurting her...and injured himself terribly for the effort.) Surgery would correct it and with a careful eye to prevent any infection (and depending on the other injuries his captors may have inflicted), Steve would be alright.

Russ had not regained consciousness while they loaded him onto a stretcher and carried him into the medevac chopper. He had so many cuts and bruises that it was impossible to tell where injuries from crashing the car left off and where the working-over he'd received from the terrorists began. As the medics began cleaning the blood from his face, Russ began to thrash and tried to fight them off. ''I'm only the driver!'' he said, not really awake. "I don't know anything, so do your worst..." He was still muttering the same when the second shot (it took two) calmed him and his body was still enough for the medics to continue. Michael issued instructions for his care to the medics and turned his attention to Jaime.

That was when he saw the drill bit. He thought it best to leave the care of Jaime's leg to Rudy who - at Michael's insistence - was waiting for the chopper back at National. They'd had no way of knowing what sort of situation they'd face when they arrived where they'd been summoned (the chopper could potentially even have fallen under attack) and Michael didn't want any unnecessary risk to the older doctor's heart. It appeared that several holes had also been drilled in her leg and Rudy's expertise would indeed be required.

Besides, with Jaime, Michael had far more urgent issues to attend to. She had a contusion with a corresponding cut just above her left temple. The swelling was minor (definitely present though) but bruising and discoloration had spread out around it like a terrible, macabre fan. It had obviously been a hard, concussive blow. ''Did she hit the side window?'' he asked Steve, ''or did _they _hit her?''

''I think her head hit the window; it happened so fast. I didn't see that bruise when we got out of the car, but -''

''You probably wouldn't have, not at first. What about later; was she -'' even as a doctor, he had trouble saying the word, when it pertained to Jaime, ''...beaten?''

''Not that I know of. But I can't say what might've happened in the car, on the way to the house. And they did throw her to the floor pretty rough...'' Steve knew that the worst of what had happened to Jaime had been done not to her body...but to her _mind_. ''Is she...alright?''

''I don't know,'' Michael admitted. He'd brought coumadin with him, to hold off any potential blood clots - but if she'd suffered any internal injuries during her ordeal the blood thinner could cause a catastrophe. Jaime needed x-rays, a brain scan, monitoring for intracranial pressure; a full work-up. For now, the best he could do was try to keep her stable and comfortable until they reached the hospital. ''I just...don't know,'' he repeated, then turned to call over to the pilot. ''What's our ETA to National?''

* * *

Back at the house, Oscar and Jack waited outside, coordinating the effort, while their combined agencies swarmed into the house. The teams found the attic door still jammed into place, exactly as Steve had told Oscar he'd left it. After creating a reinforced makeshift ladder, they pulled the trap door down and climbed up into the attic.

Oscar's datacom sputtered to life. ''We've got a problem!'' one of the OSI men called. ''Send all units that are still outside around the back of the house! Now!''

Oscar ran around to the back along with his men...and stopped short, cursing and not caring who heard him. A small, thin rope ladder (an old-fashioned 'fire ladder) extended from the attic window to nearly reach the ground. The next words over the datacom ''Two down and secured up here, Sir,'' barely made any difference.

* * *

Michael braced Jaime's stretcher (and the medics braced Russ's) while the chopper descended to the landing pad. Jaime's eyes fluttered open as her stretcher was placed on a gurney and wheeled inside. ''Where's...Steve?''

''Right here, Sweetheart,'' he answered, keeping right up alongside her as they rushed her down the hall.

''We...did it...didn't we?''

''We sure did, Partner.''

''Oscar...knows?''

''Yup.''

For a brief moment (as that was all that could be spared before Michael and Rudy began tending to her), Jaime reached for Steve's hand...and they shared a fleeting but triumphant smile.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

''Let's get you taken care of,'' Rudy gently told Steve. ''I have a surgeon waiting.''

''I need to stay with Jaime.''

''You _need _to have that fracture set before serious infection sets in!''

Steve reluctantly nodded his assent. ''Take good care of her, Doc; she's been through Hell.''

''You both have.''

* * *

''How did this happen?'' Oscar fumed. He was livid! He should've been at the hospital by now, at the side of his three injured colleagues...and friends.

Jack Hansen was _beyond_ livid. ''How did this happen? I'll _tell_ you how it happened, Goldman! _Your_ man told us the suspects were secured! _Five secured in the attic_, he said!''

''They were lucky to escape with their lives,'' Oscar said softly. ''We could've lost three of our best tonight.''

''Be that as it may,'' Hansen ranted, ''one of _your best_ screwed up big time! We looked like the damned Keystone Cops, bumbling our way into the backyard after criminals who were already gone! There are terrorists on the loose - _**terrorists!**_ - when he had them! Or...he should've had them. He _told us he did!_''

''A poor choice of words, yes,'' Oscar admitted. ''but they were tortured, Jack. _Tortured!_ We've done all we can here. Our men are on it. I need to get to the hospital.''

* * *

Michael went over Jaime's test results with a careful, cautious eye. The news was good...and bad. She had suffered a serious concussion - and pressure was once again beginning to build in her skull. But she'd sustained no internal injuries and Michael would be able to administer the coumadin that would hopefully keep any blood clots from forming. _Oxygen therapy with respirator indicated if no improvement_, he noted. _Coumadin and IV Mannitol. Monitor closely._ Jaime's leg had been opened and the drill bit carefully removed, then closed again...for now. Further repairs would wait until her condition had stabilized. _Arrange consult with Mark Conrad,_Michael wrote...then closed the file.

Once she was awake and out of danger, Jaime would probably not react well to a consult (and, hopefully, treatment) by the OSI psychologist, but in order for her to _fully_ heal, they would need to treat not only her physical injuries but also any damage to her mind and her soul.

* * *

''So I steered into the tree...on purpose,'' Mark Russell explained to Oscar. He was already sitting up in bed, on heavy painkillers and his broken nose bandaged - but he'd requested this meeting with his boss. ''When I saw we were in trouble, I'd hoped to turn around, floor it...and lose them. But the tree was a better choice than a head-on collision - or a crash I couldn't control. Slid into it as gently as I could, on the side that would do the least damage -''

''You did great,'' Oscar assured him.

''Steve and Jaime were hurt...''

''It could have been much worse.'' Oscar hesitated, then continued gently. ''Michael has arranged for Mark Conrad to fly in and consult with Jaime - actually, with the three of you...if you're willing.'' Oscar knew that the psychologist (and Post-Traumatic Stress specialist) could only be as helpful as his potential patients would allow.

''I'll see him, of course,'' Russ agreed. ''But I'm okay, Oscar. Really. I knew what was coming - and it was rough. Really rough. But I braced for it. We _trained_for the possibility.'' He fell silent as he realized Jaime no longer had the benefit of that training. He wasn't sure what had happened in that attic but he knew that Jaime and Steve had been subjected to far worse than the beating he'd endured. ''What about...Jaime? Will she be okay?''

''Michael and Rudy are optimistic,'' Oscar told him. ''And...we'll just have to see what Doctor Conrad has to say.'' Her survival seemed more certain now...but would she ever be mentally fit for work as an operative, after all she'd been through?

* * *

Oscar's next visit was to Steve's room, where his friend was just emerging from surgical anesthesia. There would need to be a serious conversation between boss and operative eventually...but now was not the time. ''Hi, Pal,'' he said softly when Steve opened his eyes. Oscar flashed him an encouraging smile as the nurses moved in to assess and tend to their patient.

''How's...Jaime?'' were his first words as he slowly became coherent again. ''Can I see her?''

''Maybe in a few hours, when you've had a chance to rest,'' Oscar promised. ''She's doing as well as can be expected. Michael's keeping her sedated until they're sure the swelling in her brain has been halted. But there are no signs of rejection or blood clots.''

''That's...good news. And...the terrorists...we got 'em, right?''

Oscar paused. It seemed the time he hadn't looked forward to had arrived sooner than expected.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

''We got two of them,'' Oscar said carefully. Steve was fresh out of surgery. On the other hand, Hansen could storm in with his feathers ruffled and 'break it to him' a lot less gently.

''_Two?_ We _**had **_them, Oscar! Practically with a big red bow on top! What...happened?''

''Well, Pal...that 'big red bow' turned into a fire ladder out the back window. And we weren't there to catch them. We had the teams available, but...''

Even in a post-anesthesia fog, Steve's years of experience put the pieces together for him. ''It was...me. I blew it.''

''You and Jaime saved Russ - and got out of there alive, so I'd say that's a pretty huge success,'' Oscar told him. "If you'd stopped to actually try and secure them, who knows what might have happened."

''Still, I said the word...the wrong word. I'm sorry, Oscar.''

''Nonsense.''

''This was _supposed _to be over. And now - because of me - it isn't over. Who knows what they'll try next...''

Oscar patted his friend's (good) shoulder. ''You need to rest, Pal; we'll handle this.''

''No, you don't understand! They...they know about bionics. They were after Jaime's power pack for...whatever it is they're trying to create. And they're still out there! How the hell am I going to tell Jaime?''

* * *

Two days later, Mark Russell was released from the hospital, to go home for a few more days of rest (at his doctor's insistence) before returning to work (at his own insistence). That same morning, Michael eased off on Jaime's sedation...and the wait began. Steve would not be deterred from taking his place by her side.

''It could be hours,'' Michael told him. ''Maybe even tomorrow; it all depends on Jaime now.''

''I'm not leaving her. I'm being released tomorrow anyway. Can't you pull a string or two and get the surgeon to push it up a day? I'm fine.''

''I'll see what I can do,'' Michael promised. ''I'll be back in a bit to check on her, but she's also on remote monitoring, so we're watching closely. And I'll send someone in with your pain meds when it's time again.''

''I'm _fine_. Don't need 'em,'' Steve insisted. ''But thank you - for everything.''

''If you let those meds wear off, you won't feel so fine. You've had a serious fracture - not to mention your bruised ribs and the lumps on your head. Now, if you need to be back on bed rest because you won't -''

''Okay, Doc. Alright. I'll be a good patient. Now about that release...''

''I'll see you in a little while,'' Michael told him. He checked Jaime's monitors one more time and then headed off for some badly-needed coffee.

Steve reached over to tenderly brush a stray hair from Jaime's face with his fingertips...then winced at the pull he felt from where he'd been kicked (repeatedly) in the ribs. _Maybe Michael was right about those pain meds, after all_, he admitted to himself. He sat back in the chair, taking Jaime's hand in his own and gazing intently at her face, willing her to open her eyes.

* * *

For Oscar, no news from Hansen and the field teams was _not _good news. ''What's the word from your sources, Jack?'' he asked when they sat down for a meeting that night in a small conference room at National. (Russ was allowed to sit in with them but not participate, so he'd be up to speed when he was ready - and cleared - to return to work.)

''Absolute silence on this one,'' Hansen informed him. ''No movement; no buzz of any kind. It's almost eerie.''

''Terrific.''

''We have Security at every entrance and exit and at scattered points throughout the hospital, although I doubt they'd try anything here. At least, not yet. And every available man is working this case.''

''Not enough,'' Oscar announced. ''We need the 'unavailable' ones made 'available'. We need _everyone _on this, Jack.''

''I'm already on it.''

* * *

In the chair beside Jaime's bed, in spite of his pain medication, Steve was unable to even doze off. Michael had come through on persuading his surgeon to release him early so he could greet Jaime's awakening in street clothes instead of a gown and robe (but since he was still physically 'in' the hospital, the doctors could keep an eye on him anyhow). Now he just needed her to open her eyes.

Finally, just before sunrise, the moment came that Steve had been praying for. ''Welcome back,'' he whispered, ignoring his ribs long enough to lean over and kiss her softly, to ease her way back into the real world.

Jaime's eyes were confused at first, as she oriented herself to where she was...and then she managed a small smile. ''You're...okay,'' she sighed (weakly but happily).

''You will be too - before you know it.''

Michael and Rudy, alerted by the monitors, hurried into the room. ''Any pain, Honey?'' Rudy asked (already assessing her).

''If you could...please...tell the aliens pounding my head...with their little green hammers to knock it off...that would be great,'' she answered, smiling fully now.

The men who surrounded her bed exchanged a smile of their own - one of relief. Jaime was back.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

''After hearing what Steve and Jaime - especially Jaime - went through, what they did to me seems almost trivial,'' Russ told the OSI psychiatrist.

''Brutal beatings are hardly trivial,'' Doctor Conrad pointed out. ''The threat of terror can be equally as effective as any act; often more so.''

''I know. But they believed that I was only a driver - so they didn't really bother with me so much.''

''Still, make sure that you aren't trivializing what they _did _do.''

''I'm not,'' Russ explained. ''But in this line of work, we know the possibility exists; we train for it.'' As much as he'd hated Resistance Training when he'd gone through it (in his early days as an operative, before his promotion), he had to admit how helpful it had been. He'd gone to 'another place' in his mind while they were hurting him...and it had worked. Russ had successfully compartmentalized the beatings, put them away to be dealt with at a later time and place.

''Just know that I'm here for you - for all of you - and if you should need me, I'm just a phone call away.''

''To be honest,'' Steve admitted, ''what's haunting me the most is the fact that...I screwed up. And because of that, Jaime's nightmare isn't over.''

''It was a nightmare for all of you,'' Conrad said quietly. ''The important thing now is to let yourself heal. Allow yourself time to process everything that happened and -''

''But there _isn't_ time! They're still out there! And we're their targets - both of us now, because they saw me use my bionics too. I mean, I can fight them off if I have to, but Jaime...I just don't know. When she finds out what happened, that some of them got away...I don't know how to even begin to tell her...''

''How about letting me help you with that?'' Conrad suggested.

''Jaime, this is Doctor Mark Conrad,'' Steve began (with more confidence than he actually felt). ''He's on staff with OSI and he's here to help us deal with everything that happened in that attic.''

''So you're a shrink,'' Jaime deduced.

Conrad smiled warmly as he approached the bed. ''I prefer 'psychiatrist' - or even 'doctor' - but yes, I'm a shrink.''

''So they think I'm crazy now?''

''Of course not, Sweetheart,'' Steve soothed. ''But they need to be sure we're processing this in...in a healthy way.''

''And what happened to you could make anyone _feel _a little crazy,'' Conrad added. ''How are you feeling - physically?''

''Aside from one heck of a headache, better.'' It had been just over two days now since she'd been allowed to wake up, and while her strength was still very slowly returning, Jaime's condition had stabilized enough that the repairs to her leg had been completed that morning...and she was already pestering her doctors to let her get up. ''Michael says my balance might be 'off' for awhile, 'cause my brain was '_insulted_' - that's how he put it - twice in a month. I'm just glad I'm still here...and in one piece...mostly, anyhow.''

''Any nightmares?'' Conrad probed.

''Some,'' she admitted.

''That's normal. They should fade with time; I can certainly help you in that regard.''

''At least they're locked away now; that's a really good thing,'' Jaime concluded.

''Sweetheart,'' Steve said gently, taking her hand, ''there's something we need to talk about...''

''Uh-oh...not sure I like the sound of that...''

''There was a problem,'' Steve explained. ''Two of them are in custody; probably _still _being interrogated as we speak. But the other three...they got away.''

''No...''

''I'm sorry; I wish we'd been able to bring you better news,'' the doctor added.

''What about the one...the one with...the drill?''

''He's still out there,'' Steve said reluctantly. ''But Oscar and Jack Hansen have their combined manpower on this. They'll find him.''

''You don't know that...'' Jaime's eyes filled with tears. She could still vividly feel that drill whirring away with horrific promise, so very close to her face.

''And they've got this place literally crawling with Security,'' Steve assured her.

''I - I don't wanna talk anymore...right now...please...'' As if to emphasize this, Jaime turned her face to the wall and closed her eyes.

Mark Conrad headed down to his temporary office. He wouldn't be leaving the hospital just yet. He suspected that Jaime would be needing him desperately...just as soon as she fell asleep.

* * *

_The drill could not have been any closer. Jaime could __**feel**__ its vibrations as well as sense it (and hear it). The fact that she couldn't see it made it that much more terrifying. His awful laughter penetrated every corner of her mind and the implied threat shook her to her very soul. She was helpless...and she knew it. He knew it too; it was by his design and he took great satisfaction from watching her tremble. As he moved the terrible instrument to her leg and it began to bore into her, Jaime knew with absolute certainty that she was about to die..._


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Steve jostled Jaime's hand and then tenderly brushed her cheek, calling her name very softly - and when that failed to rouse her from her nightmare, he moved to sit on the edge of her bed and (ignoring the pain in his ribs) began rocking her in his good arm as his finger pressed the call button.

All three of her doctors (already alerted by alarming changes on the monitors) rushed to Jaime's bedside. ''She won't wake up!'' Steve told them.

''Give her a minute,'' Conrad suggested. ''Just keep doing what you're doing - and talk to her.''

Michael didn't like what the read-outs were telling him. Jaime's blood pressure was through the roof and her oxygen level was dropping rapidly. Steve continued to hold her close, crooning in her ear and gently rubbing her back with the fingers of his immobilized arm.

''Sweetheart, you're dreaming...and you need to wake up now. You're safe here...I've got you...you're safe...''

Gradually, Jaime's pressure returned to almost-normal as the dream's hold on her began to lessen. Her eyes snapped open - and she buried her head on Steve's shoulder, collapsing into soul-wrenching sobs. Mark Conrad knew that as alarming as this episode was, it was also an excellent sign. Jaime was beginning to release the anguish that had been inflicted on her...and although it was merely the tip of the iceberg, at least the iceberg was starting to melt.

* * *

Steve had still not left the hospital, in spite of having been released a week earlier. He'd spent most of his waking hours at Jaime's bedside and at night would doze in a chair to be right there to comfort her when her dreams turned ugly. Jaime was feeling stronger now - physically anyway - and was meeting daily with Doctor Conrad to work on the rest. Accompanied by Security (following at a tactful but still quite watchful distance), she and Steve took a walk down to the lake to get her out of the hospital setting (and mindset), if only for a little while.

''I wonder if Oscar will _ever _let me go back to work now,'' Jaime sighed wistfully, ''after the way things got so messed up.''

Steve knew it was time to tell her exactly how and why things had gone wrong. If she _was_, at some point, to return to life as an operative, his mistake could be a learning experience for her. He summed it all up for her, as simply and honestly as he could.

''One word made all that difference,'' Jaime marveled.

''Yup. But when we make a mistake - even as big as the one I made - we have to learn from it, forgive ourselves...and move on. We can't let it eat away at our confidence.''

''That makes a lot of sense. So...do you think he will? Let me come back, I mean.''

''Have you talked about this with Oscar at all?''

''Well, no...not yet. But I will,'' Jaime promised.

''Are you sure you wouldn't rather find a less dangerous profession...like maybe lion taming?''

Jaime laughed...and Steve smiled. The sound was music to his ears.

* * *

''What do _you _think?'' Jaime asked, running her desire to return to work past Mark Conrad before she broached it with Oscar.

''It's how you feel about it that's important, Jaime.''

''Yes, but I'd really like your opinion.''

''Alright. I think it's too early to even consider the notion at this point, when you're still having nightmares every night. In the future, yes; if it's what you really _want_...and not what you feel is expected of you.'' The doctor knew that a release from the OSI on psychological grounds was just about the only way to leave without an automatic pass to the government's _retirement community _for former operatives. He and Oscar had already briefly touched bases on the subject and agreed it could be a possibility for Jaime - without any bias or stigma attached - should she feel unable to continue, after what she'd been through.

''Well, of course it's expected of me, but -''

''Not necessarily.''

''But it's also something I _want _to do! Not just to repay a debt...but because I was pretty darn good at it once! Steve and Oscar both told me so!''

Conrad smiled. ''Then we'll start working on getting you ready for that - and talk about getting Oscar's approval as well.'' He already knew that Oscar would gladly welcome Jaime back into the OSI fold - if and when her three doctors _all_ deemed her able and ready. To hear her asking about it this soon made Mark Conrad marvel at her resilience.

* * *

''There's movement again,'' Hansen began, at his next daily sit-down meeting with Oscar, Russ and the top men from the Southern California branch of the FBI. ''My sources have started hearing rumblings...''

''Of what, exactly?'' Russ asked. He still _looked _like the walking wounded but had returned rapidly to a near-normal routine.

''That...we don't know,'' Hansen admitted. ''But something is brewing - and there are more of them than just the three stragglers.''

''Terrific,'' Oscar groused. ''I knew they wouldn't ride quietly off into the sunset - and I figured they'd expand their forces; I'd just hoped it wouldn't be this soon. We'll need to bolster Security forces on both coasts...and especially surrounding Jaime and Steve. She's due to leave the hospital tomorrow.''

''Can you keep her there?'' Jack queried. ''At least for a few more days?''

''Jaime? Not likely,'' Russ chimed in. ''But I'd think she'll be easier to protect at home - with a far smaller area to cover than National Medical. We'll still need Security there too, though. Of course.''

''Of course,'' Hansen agreed. ''They may be getting ready to make their next move. It sounds like that's the case - but when they do, we'll be ready.''


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

''An army of - what did that mad doctor call them? - Fembots?'' Jack Hansen suggested.

''That's hardly likely,'' Rudy scoffed. (Hansen was clearly _not _cut out for scientific brainstorming!) The three-agency morning meeting had turned into a roundtable brainstorming session about what the terrorists' possible end goal might be...and Rudy had been summoned for the insight he might provide. As the creator of the technology the terrorists were after, he'd clearly have plenty to say. ''The fembots may have been physically more powerful than Steve and Jaime, but their power source was far more primitive - and easily vanquished. They wouldn't be readily adaptable to a nuclear source, even if this group somehow got their hands on an entire fembot to use as a prototype.''

''Alright, an army of bionic people, then,'' Hansen muttered.

''Not without all of my files on the necessary schematics and the biology involved - and those are locked in a crack-proof, fire-proof, lead-lined safe.''

''So we're obviously talking about some other sort of...device,'' Russ theorized. ''Since Jack brought up Doctor Franklin, there's another device we should probably mention here -''

''Weather control,'' Oscar completed for him, sharing the same worrisome thought. ''Was about it, Rudy? Could that be nuclear-powered?''

''I suppose it could...but there's really no reason for it to be. For the miniaturization of it, sure - but why make it smaller, harder to find - when a properly-functioning weather control system wouldn't allow us anywhere near its base of operations. They want to inflict _terror_, as widespread and complete as they can make it. Since they're after the power pack's technology though, I don't think their eye is on weather control. And since Steve has informed us that the terrorists claim to have all the money they need, we have to assume they're ready to move forward with their plan. We _have_ to make sure they don't get their hands on a power pack - or the results will likely be worse than we can even imagine!''

* * *

Security once again followed at a tactful distance, allowing Jaime the joy of returning home without unduly adding to any stress she might feel. Steve thought she looked _radiant_...except when he took a good, close look into her eyes. She was also still fragile...and _frightened_. Only one who knew Jaime as well as he did would spot that - and he vowed to do everything in his power to help her feel safe.

''Put your feet up and relax,'' he told her, ''and I'll fix some lunch.''

''Put my feet up...why? There's no circulation in my feet!''

''It's the idea of enforced relaxation that I'm going for here -''

''And don't forget that I remember all about your 'skills' in the kitchen now, Colonel! I love you, but you'd probably burn soup.''

''Even one-handed, I can slap together some sandwiches...probably.''

''I'll make you a deal,'' Jaime laughed, heading into the kitchen where that morning a secretary (sent by Oscar) had stocked the refrigerator with food for Jaime's homecoming, ''_I'll_ 'slap some lunch together'. And _you _can supervise to make sure I don't do anything strenuous. How's that?''

A kiss sealed the agreement - for both of them.

* * *

Outside the house, Security had just moved forward into their assigned posts at the front and back doors (with teams also in cars on the street, facing in both directions) when the florist's delivery truck pulled up - and the team at the front door accepted the bright, cheerful arrangement. They immediately began scanning the blossoms for explosives, listening devices or harmful substances but there was only a card. They tore open the tiny white envelope...and immediately radioed for Hansen and Oscar. They hoped Jaime hadn't noticed the delivery truck because she wasn't going to be receiving these flowers - and they certainly weren't going to show her the card!

_We're glad you're feeling better,_ it read. _We haven't forgotten you._

**END** of Episode Four  
(Story continued in Episode Five.)


End file.
